school – Grits with Grace

Family, fear, friends, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, wisdom

A New Season

Posted on August 30, 2023August 29, 2023 by Dewayne Taylor

For everything there is a season, a time for every activity under heaven. A time to be born and a time to die. A time to plant and a time to harvest.” Ecclesiastes 3:1-2

Seasons come and seasons go. A while back, Judy’s great nephew posted a picture on Facebook. It showed their son, maybe five years old, walking down his driveway. On his back he carries a backpack that is just about as big as he is. He is heading to school—his first day of kindergarten. The first day of school is a big deal, even more so when it is kindergarten, especially for mom and dad. In the foreground of the picture, is a line of toys…I suppose some of his favorites. The message was beautifully clear. As seasons change, as great adventures come along, as each new journey starts, sometimes you must leave what you love behind. It’s part of growing up—it’s part of life. I’m sure out of camera range was mom, and dad too, who watched through teary eyes. Their little boy was growing up. Seasons come and seasons go.

It will happen in just a few weeks—fall will silently arrive. Will you feel it? Will you sense it? Probably not. For most it won’t even be a blip on the calendar. There will be no fanfare, no ticker-tape parade, no sounds trumpeting its arrival. In many ways it will be just a day on the calendar that most of us will probably miss. But not everyone will miss it. The trees won’t. Slowly and surely, their leaves will begin turning a beautiful yellow and red before drifting, floating to the ground. The plants won’t. The shortening days will be telling their leaves it is time to prepare for next spring by preparing for winter’s sleep. And oh yes, the squirrels definitely won’t. They will begin gathering their supply of acorns and pecans, tucking them away for the coming winter. You see, fall is a time of transition…nature’s way of letting us know that another season is soon coming…Winter. And winter, like all the seasons, is something to celebrate—something to embrace.

For me the first day of fall is an event. Every year I look forward to it. I told my wife that part of the mystery of fall is how something so beautiful prepares the way for a time of dormancy and sleep. You might think of it as a time of things dying but you would be wrong. No, it is a time of preparation and transition. Remember…seasons come, and seasons go. And in the beauty of fall we see the promise of spring, of new life. It is that way for nature. It is that way for us. In the fall of our lives, things begin to change, and it is God’s way of preparing us for new life—eternal life with Him. While we do have to walk through the winter of death, just on the other side is the eternal spring of heaven. It is something to celebrate—something to embrace.

So, seasons come and go. It is true in nature, and it is true in life. While the changing seasons sometimes bring challenges, they also bring on exciting new adventures. Changing seasons on the calendar are something to celebrate—something to embrace. It is God’s promise to us that something new is coming. The author of Ecclesiastes reminds us that for everything there is a season—a time for every purpose under heaven. He’s telling us that seasons come, and seasons go. There are times for living and dying, playing, and harvesting, dancing and sitting still. Yes, it is something to celebrate—and something to embrace.

As we casually flip the pages of the calendar, as the clock keeps ticking, leading us toward new seasons and new adventures, don’t get stuck in the cold of winter. No, remember this—spring is on the other side. Every day is a gift from God and is a gentle nudge from our Dearest Daddy that He is preparing new seasons and new adventures for us. Like our first day of kindergarten, it might mean leaving behind some of the things we love, but we can rest in Him knowing that only the best comes from Him and He never, ever gets it wrong. Never. Sleep well tonight knowing that He who creates the days, masters the same. Rest knowing that He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Family, friends, life, Scripture, Southern born, thankful

The Gap

Posted on January 28, 2022 by Dewayne Taylor

“I remember the days of old; I meditate on all You have done; I reflect on the work of Your hands.” Psalms 143:5

I’m not sure why…but there’s a gap. When I started school in Jacksonville, Florida there was no kindergarten. It was like one day you were at home and the then you weren’t. My first four grades of elementary school were at Wesconnect Elementary School and the last two were at a brand-new school—Jacksonville Heights Elementary School. Unlike Wesconnect that required a bus ride, the new school was only several blocks down the road from my house.

Wesconnect was an old…real old. It was all brick with no air conditioning. It was hot. That is one reason why we didn’t start school till after Labor Day. I remember it having large paned windows, oak floors and tall ceilings. Hundreds of footsteps would echo through the halls. And, to a little kid like me, it was big—like huge. It was at Wesconnect, that I met and fell in love for the first time. She was an older than me—my first-grade teacher—Mrs. Jones. And, like the song from the seventies says, “we had a thing going on” or at least I did. She was pretty (at least from my seven-year-old perspective) and she was pretty nice. I became her number one eraser cleaner. But soon, it was time to move on. So, I passed first grade and it was so long Mrs. Jones.

By second grade I was a veteran. A lot of the insecurities were gone and I met Mrs. Webb. She, like Mrs. Jones, was a kind teacher. I think, though I am not sure, that my sister and I had our tonsils out about then and she had all the kids write me get well cards. I can still remember how special it was to receive that big envelope from my classmates. Thank-you, Mrs. Webb. Third grade meant yet another teacher…this time Mrs. Wilson. Now I don’t mean this in a mean way but she kinda reminded me of one of the witches from “The Wizard of Oz.” She was an older lady, and wore her hair in a tight bun and was quite stern. I didn’t clean Mrs. Wilson’s erasers. But looking back, she was a good teacher and she helped us learn and that is what mattered. I managed to pass again, so soon it was so long Mrs. Wilson.

Fifth grade meant a new school (with air conditioning—smile) and yet another new teacher and her name was, get ready for it, Mrs. Slappy. She was rather short, had bright red hair and was rather snappy. Today I think I would use the word, “feisty.” As I remember her class, it was fun and I had a new responsibility. She selected me (and a couple of others) to be trained to run the film strip projector and the movie projector. It was a big deal. When we were going to see a film strip or movie in class, one of us would go down and check out the equipment, set it up and operate it. Wow…what responsibility and to think, she trusted me. That was a big deal. Thank you, Mrs. Slappy.

My final year in elementary school, sixth grade, was a landmark year. I had my first male teacher, Mr. Perry and was selected to be a “patrol boy.” Mr. Perry was, as you can imagine, a little different from Mrs. Jones in First grade but I remember him being imposing but fair. He was a “rules” guy but as long as you followed the rules, you did ok. That served me well then and really for the rest of my life. I know it started at home but Mr. Perry reenforced it…a lesson well learned. Well, there you go my parade of teachers. The end. Thanks for reading.

Well, not quite. You see there was a reason I walked you through all of that. Did you notice something? Well, if you noticed that there is a gap…you are right. You see, for some reason, and who knows why, there is a total gap for the fourth grade. I have absolutely no memories of my teacher, classmates, or surroundings. I know it was Wesconnect but beyond that…zero…and that intrigues me. I don’t know or believe it was anything bad…there is just a gap. In fact, it means that there was probably a really good teacher who taught me, good friends that I met and played with and a whole year of great memories that, for some reason, I have forgotten. I.Have.Forgotten.

And that made me think. How many other incredibly good things have I forgotten? It seems we have no problem remembering all the bad stuff but sometimes we tend to sometimes forget the good stuff, the great stuff that comes our way. I love writing about my days as a kid but I wonder how many good stories I could write if I remembered all the other adventures that came my way. How many more adventurous things came my way that slipped away. Hmmm.

Remembering the good always feeds gratitude and dwelling on the bad tends to feed the opposite. And, trying to filling unexplained gaps, well, can do the same. Why don’t we celebrate the good, let the hard stuff stay in the rearview mirror and those gaps…just let them be. I like what the writer of Psalms 145:3 said, “I remember the days of old; I meditate on all you have done; I reflect on the work of your hands.” In other words, whether it was good, whether it was difficult or whether there is a gap, we know and celebrate one constant, “He’s got that.” Bro. Dewayne

Family, fear, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials, wisdom

A Morning Nightmare

Posted on February 18, 2021February 17, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.” 2 Corinthians 1:4

It was the thing that nightmares are made of. I wasn’t there for this, but trust me I have lived it over and over again with my wife, Judy. Let me tell you the story. When she was four or five years old, her father and mother went to work and so she had a babysitter that lived close by. It was a regular routine. Simple. Simple and routine till one day it wasn’t.

On the first day of school, the babysitter and her friend were taking the kids to school. The kids were entering first grade, there was no kindergarten. After they had dropped the kids off, it was back to her house again. If you’ve ever been to Valdosta, Georgia you need to know multiple times at multiple locations train tracks would cross the roads and highways. Just a few miles from the grade school was a pulpwood plant and often trains would drop off logs to be made into paper. On that particular morning, after leaving the school, the car approached this train crossing. In the early 60’s, many of the crossings didn’t have lights or gates and this was one of those. As the car approached the crossing, that’s when it happened.

It was not unusual for trains to just stop short of the crossing and sit there. As the car approached the crossing there was a train and the young lady who was driving assumed it was just waiting as they often did. Unfortunately, she was wrong. As the car neared the crossing and proceeded onto the tracks, she realized that the train was in fact moving—slowly—but moving. In a panic she thought she was pressing the gas pedal, when in fact she pressed the brake—stopping the car dead on the track. As if in slow motion, the train hit the car and slowly, methodically pushed it down the tracks. Even at such a slow speed, it took a while for the train to stop. The damage was extensive.

The collision was not without consequences and injuries. The lady in the front passenger seat where the train hit received two broken arms. The girl behind the passenger seat had a broken leg. The driver literally had a nervous breakdown. Thankfully, four-year-old Judy was only knocked to the floorboard where she tried her best to hold on to the “hump.” While everyone was taken to the hospital, gratefully the injuries, though serious, were not life threatening. As often is the case in situations like this, not all the injuries were physical.

When I met Judy in 1974, she was sixteen and full of fun and life. Because she lived on the other side of most of the tracks, we would often have to cross them. While never in a dangerous way, if I heard a training coming, I would speed up to make it across the crossing. I still remember the fear that came across her face. Each time it happened, she was reliving what happened. The accident still deeply affected her emotionally. Even if there was a crossing guard with lights, she would tense up, even though I was slowing down to a stop. What happened that morning 12 years earlier left lifelong scars.

At first I didn’t really understand and thought perhaps, just perhaps, she was overreacting. But it didn’t take years, or months or even more than a couple of weeks, for me to realize that for her…this was a big deal. I also quickly realized that I owed it to her, this young woman I loved, to be very careful around train tracks. It didn’t scare me one bit, but it did scare the one I loved, the one I cared for.

So, can I ask you a question? Is there someone in your life, in your world that you care about that might need a bit of special consideration? Is there someone who has a life experience that has left them scarred or wounded? Divorce? Tragedy? Abuse? Death? Illness? Prejudice? You see, in our very imperfect world, you don’t have to travel far to find the wounded and the broken. And what isn’t a big deal to you, might be a tsunami of emotions and difficult memories for someone else. And honestly, we need to be sensitive. We need to care. Jesus did that so well. The Bible tells how God cares and comforts us in our trouble so we can care and comfort those we meet in our daily walkabout life.

So, if you bump into someone’s world and they seem to act differently in a certain situation, why not precede with caution? Why not be the one that brings comfort and understanding to their fractured moment? You could be the one that finally brings healing and peace in their world. Judy is much better now. But if there is an unguarded crossing and a train whistle in the distance, you can bet I still slow down and check the situation out. Judy, well, she knows this guy loves her enough to do exactly that. And, by the way, there is a Dearest Daddy who loves His kids even more than that. And no matter how your world is scarred or rocked…rest assured, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne